BUT that we weigh our happiness by thine, We could not, precious Soul! from tears decline, Although the Muses' silver stream would be Too poor by far to drop an elegy; But that's below thee; since thy virtues are The spices that embalm thee, thou art far More richly laid, and shalt more long remain Still mummified within the hearts of men, Than if to list thee in the rolls of Fame Each marble spoke thy shape, all brass thy name. Sleep, sacred ashes! that did once contain This jewel, and shalt once and e'er again Sleep undisturb'd: Envy can only raise Herself at living, Hate grasp lower preys; We'll not deflower you; let us only pry What treasures in ye did involved lie, So young, so learned, and so wise; O, here's Example, Wisdom's not the child of years. So rich, and yet so pious! O, 'tis well Devotion is not coffin'd in a cell, Nor chok'd by wealth; wealth hated, harmless proves, And only knows to mischief him that loves. So fair, and yet so chaste! Lust is not ever Youth's constant sorceress, but doth sometime sever To look on moral virtues; there'll appear The courtier twisted with th' philosopher. Nor were they on spruce apophthegms spent, Begot 'twixt Idleness and Discontent, But acted to the life and unconstrain'd, The Sisters sweetly walking hand in hand, And so entirely twisted that alone None could be view'd, all were together one; As twinkling spangles, that together lie, Join forces, and make up one galaxy; As various gums, dissolving in one fire, Together in one fragrant fume expire. Sleep, then, triumphant Soul! thy funerals For admiration, and not mourning, calls. |